Still Right Here
by spacefemme
Summary: Ford and Mabel deal with some residual guilt, but what else is new? Bit of a follow-up to Glowing; set before Ivory, not that that's incredibly important.
1. Chapter 1

"It _is_ a nice cover," said Ford, looking over Dipper's new journal, the pages clean and white, with no folds or tears. That was sure to be changed before the two saw each other next, which was really a good thing, but there was something nostalgic about seeing an empty book again. "You'll have to keep me updated on what you find." He handed it back to his nephew, who took it with a gratified smile.

"Sure thing, Grunkle Ford."

There was that word again. At first, Ford hadn't understood it fully, but the more he was addressed by it, the more it seemed to fit. Made him more of a "Pines," in a way.

"I gotta say," Dipper continued. "I'm glad to be going back, but California's gonna seem even more boring compared to here."

Ford let out a small laugh and looked over at Mabel, "Well, I think between the two of you, you can make it weird enough to tide you over." His grandniece gave him a small, but bright smile in response. He couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt upon seeing her. He had tried to make it clear that he loved both of the kids, and admired Mabel's positivity and confidence, but throughout the time he'd spent with them, his tendency toward isolation had kept him from sharing much of himself with her. All things considered, he hadn't even told her brother all that much, and what he did tell was still kept secret from the rest of the family. Even in the days following Weirdmageddon, they were too focused on helping Stanley recover his mind to have a whole lot of old-fashioned quality time. Seeing how the kids bid Stan and their friends farewell made that pretty obvious.

* * *

At some point, Mabel had gotten used to the smell of chlorine. She wasn't throwing up often, but lately her nights had been so long and tormenting that she'd found herself staring into the toilet bowl for what must have been hours total, held in place by the fear that she'd only get sick again once she got back into bed. A few times, Dipper sat with her, not just to talk her through it, but also because he was afraid of what he'd see if he went to sleep. The week before, in California, they'd faked stability long enough for their parents to approve of their trip up to Gravity Falls for spring break. It wasn't like their entire lives were like this now; it was just hard to predict when it would flare up again for one of them. Of course, it had also helped that Stan and Ford were already going to the trouble of docking in Garibaldi and driving in for the week. After sleeping for most of the bus ride, the kids were pretty much golden, at least for the day.

Once the Pines family had had their reunions, - hugs, noogies, and fist bumps abound, in addition to a somewhat uncomfortable hello between two certain members - they dispersed somewhat throughout the TV room. Abuelita was forcing an ever-courteous Melody to look through a stack of Ramirez family photo albums, Wendy was repeatedly kicking Soos' butt in Slapjack, and the biological Pineses were gathered around the armchair watching Tiger Fist reruns. For the first time in a while, things felt kind of normal. The only thing that really felt off was Mabel, but Ford surmised that it wasn't his place to say anything, especially since Dipper and Stan didn't seem to notice.

Melody snorted from the table, "Okay, that's pretty awesome." A picture in one of the books showed a preteen Soos on a roller coaster, asleep in a crowd of terrified-looking theme park patrons. "I can never do fast rides; I pretty much wet myself."

"Oh, yeah, the Rocket Runner!" Soos looked up from the cards. "Heh, didn't cousin Reggie throw up after that one?"

"No, no," Abuelita waved him off. "It was during the loop."

"HA," Mabel cackled from the chair. "Just like Dipper on the ferris wheel!" She grabbed the scrapbook from her backpack and opened to a page with a photo of her and Dipper at the age of seven sitting in a ferris wheel car, one child giving a colossal smile, and the other leaning over the side, looking miserable. "That was a fun day."

"O-kay," Dipper cut in sternly, taking the book from his sister and shutting it. "That's enough of that." Before she could respond, they were both jostled by Stan getting up from his spot in between them.

"Welp," he said as he pushed himself up. "Don't need any more 'a that conversation. I'm gonna go grab a soda." Waddles jumped up onto the chair with a determined snort and settled into Stan's place as he left for the kitchen.

The contents of the fridge had changed drastically since Soos and Melody had taken over the Shack. The packages of bacon and Pitt Colas that had once filled the shelves were replaced with salad mix, Lunchables, and was that a protein shake? He absentmindedly stared up and down the shelves a few more times before everything turned to static.

* * *

"Alright, let's see," he said to himself. "You're in someone's kitchen." He glanced in the fridge again. "Probably not yours." He shut the door and looked around the room, trying to make sense of his surroundings. A sink full of dirty dishes that had no doubt piled up over the last several days; a refrigerator door covered in alphabet magnets and a post-it note reminding someone to pick up somebody at the bus stop. Judging by the names, it must've been an old lady and...her dog, maybe? In any case, none of it helped. Nothing around him gave him any kind of direction until he heard laughter from an adjacent room. He followed the chorus to a room full of carefree, smiling faces. He tried to get his bearings without causing concern.

"Heh, what's goin' on in here?"

A kid in a hat a little too big for his head replied, "The tiger just punched a cop; we were saying it was too bad you missed it."

Another little kid sitting next to the first one added, "Don't worry, Grunkle Stan, we can find the scene online later."

"Grunkle?" As soon as the nonsense word left his mouth, he knew he should have kept his mouth shut. The two kids, along with a gray-haired man sitting near them, stopped and looked up at him, appearing startled.

 _Why did you ask them that why did they say that I'm supposed to know what that means aren't I what does that mean..._

The kids glanced at each other worriedly, but the old man seemed to understand what was happening.

"Stanley," he said calmly. "Do you know where you are?" At that, the rest of the strangers in the room looked up with the same concern, with the exception of a large man in a tee shirt and cargo shorts, who slammed his hand down onto a pile of playing cards on the table in front of him.

"Hey, I got one!" He looked around to see if everyone else had heard his achievement, only to be met with silence. "Wh-what's everybody lookin' at? What's up?"


	2. Chapter 2

Wendy was the first to ask, "Uh, Ford? What's going on?" She'd known about the incident at the end of the previous summer, but she hadn't seen much of it herself. By the time she saw the Pines again, most of his memory had already been restored.

"Memory lapse," Ford answered flatly. "It'll pass in time, probably within a few hours, but we can speed up the process a bit by giving him visual or auditory reminders. Photographs, music, anything that might jog his memory, just like we did before." Soos and Wendy started toward the hallway to collect any family photos hanging on the walls, while Melody went to find Stan's record collection, leading Abuelita back to her room on the way.

"Has he had one of these before?" Dipper inquired nervously, although his fears were eased somewhat by Ford's calm demeanor. "I mean, besides th- the...first time?"

Ford sighed, "Yes, he has. His long-term memory is, for the most part, restored, but occasionally, his mind will temporarily...disappear, in a sense."

"Hey, ya mind not talkin' about me like I'm a science experiment?" Stan finally cut in. "I can hear you, ya know."

"Sorry, Stanley."

Dipper pulled the scrapbook out from between the cushion and the arm of the recliner and motioned for Stan to sit next to him. "H-here, this'll help."

As the boy began a museum tour through a portion of his uncle's past, Ford quickly became aware of a presence missing from the room. In all the commotion, the curator had slipped away unnoticed.

"Keep explaining to him," he instructed his nephew. "I'll be right back." He marched up the wooden staircase to the attic and found Mabel kneeling on the floor, facing away from him.  
Ford had no inkling of what he could say to comfort her. Coming from the man who had pulled the trigger to destroy any chance Stanley had at ever being the same, it was doubtful she would even want to hear it.

He had a go at it anyway.

"Mabel?"

She sniffed, but otherwise remained silent. He approached her quietly and knelt down next to her. Her eyes were panicked, and her palm was held firmly against her mouth.

"I should have told you earlier. He goes through these from time to time. It'll pass."

She lowered her hand, but still kept her gaze ahead.

"This shouldn't be happening." Her voice shook and cracked, giving off an air of helplessness. "It's supposed to be normal now."

Stanford could only resign himself to the shame he felt.

"I know," he sighed, standing up to go back downstairs. "I'm sorry." The least he could do at this point was allow her to avoid him as she desired. He was a fraction of a second from opening the door when she made him stop in his path, his fist still closed around the door handle.

"It's because of me." She had finally turned around.

He let go and turned back, perplexed. His niece had tears pouring down her face and looked terrified of how he would respond. He crouched down to her level again.

"What do you mean?"

She gasped sharply and started to ramble:

"I mean me and Dipper had a huge fight and I got all upset and I ran away but I took his backpack by accident and this time traveler guy we knew came out and said he needed that snow globe thingy with the blob in it so he could make summer last longer and I really didn't want it to be over so I gave it to him but then he threw it on the ground and he started laughing and it was Bill and then it was the apocalypse and you got turned into a statue and now I keep getting sick and Dipper has nightmares and Stan...and I-I'm sorry, I -" She had to stop to accommodate her alarmingly fast breathing pattern. While she had spoken, Ford had only stared at her, listening intently - no doubt prepping himself mentally to walk out and never speak to her again.

"Mabel. Mabel! Breathe," Ford breathed in and out slowly a few times to guide her back to a healthy rate. Once she had stopped panting, he continued, "It's not your fault." It was his - he knew that. But telling her that wouldn't set a good example.

"But I -"

"You were tricked."

"Exactly!"

"Mabel, listen to me." He placed a hand on her shoulder. "He sought you out at your most vulnerable state, and made himself out to be someone you could trust. Had you known it was Bill, I have no doubt you would've had the good judgment to refuse. You were the one who fought him off the last time, weren't you?"

She sniffled, "Yeah, but I - I should've…"

"It wasn't your fault. He would have done anything to get to the rift." He cast his eyes downward, trying hard to contain his anger at the monster who had caused this distress. "I'm just sorry he brought you into it. You did nothing wrong, I promise." He looked back to her face and mustered a reassuring smile.

She stared up at him for a beat, tears still rolling from her eyes, before throwing her arms around him and sobbing into his sweater. He stiffened up at first, caught off guard by the gesture, but soon returned it, gently patting her on the head and reciting the affirmation he'd been using for months to keep himself composed.

"It's alright. We're safe now. Stan's going to be fine."

It took several minutes for Mabel to stop crying and speak clearly again.

"Please don't tell Dipper," she croaked, lifting her head and wiping her tears away with her sleeve. Part of her believed what Ford had said. He could tell by the conflicted look on her face. The rest of her would catch up in time.

"I won't. But I think he'd say the same thing."

She nodded silently, then said, "We should go downstairs and help him." Ford agreed, and the two left to join everyone else in the living room. Strangely, things were starting to feel okay.

This would pass.


End file.
